He was holding on to the bar above him tightly. His other hand was shoved into his jacket pocket. He seemed antsy and shifted from foot to foot as the streetcar rattled beneath our feet. His face was sickly pale and set with grim determination. I don't know why I caught myself staring. Something about him just seemed... off. He glanced my way as if he could feel me staring. His eyes were cold and hardened. Unconciously, I shifted away from him and rubbed my arm, now freckled with goosebumps. We pulled into the next stop and he got off. He hunched his shoulders like he didn't want to be seen but it only made him stand out more to me. He roughly shoved past the old woman that was blocking his way and stepped out onto the street. He kept his eyes downcast as he stalked away.